Disclaimer: The lyrics to the song "Hear Me" by Kelly Clarkson are in bold & italic print...hope you enjoy the story!
Hear me…Hear me
You gotta be out there
You gotta be somewhere
Wherever you are
I'm waiting
The window panes shuddered as the thunder clapped down ferociously, gusts of wind sent the debris spiraling into the air effectively rendering the immaculate homes on Privet Drive imperceptible. The inhabitants of these homes were curled in their beds, soundly asleep, blissfully unaware of the storm that was working itself into a furor right outside their doors. A single soul lay troubled, unable to fall asleep, his emotions mirroring the turmoil taking place outside. Harry Potter arrived at the home of the Dursley’s several weeks prior, to a lukewarm greeting at best. His family’s lack of enthusiasm did not trouble him however, he preferred exiling himself from them whenever possible. That he returned to spend a few weeks of his summer with them was merely a testament of his loyalty to Dumbledore. Harry bristled at the thought of his old mentor, or rather at the thought of how his mentor had been murdered in cold blood by a trusted companion.
Vengeance was the real reason that Harry found himself unable to sleep that night and every night for the past three weeks. His deepest desire was to settle the score with the murderers that killed his parents, godfather, and now, his mentor. Instead, he lay in bed plotting the next move he would take once he left the home of the Dursleys. Truthfully, he was waiting for a sign of sorts to indicate when it would be safe to leave. With Dumbledore gone, there was no way of knowing for sure that the ancient magic designed to protect him - so long as he returned to the abode of his blood relatives - was still in affect. Regardless, he did what Dumbledore had requested of him. He was Dumbledore’s man through-and-through…he was going to prove to the world that good could vanquish evil, Dumbledore’s death would not be in vain.
Yes, Lord Voldemort would soon become human again. Harry was going to hunt down every last Horcrux that had been created by that fanatic, and destroy them one-by-one. Then, he would go after Voldemort…vengeance would be his. But for now, he would wait. Somewhere out there, someone was bound to recall him into the wizarding world…into his world. But for now…he would wait.
'Cause there are these nights when
I sing myself to sleep
And I'm hopin' my dreams
Bring you close to me
Are you listening?
Harry quickly got to his feet as the band began to play the wedding march. His eyes narrowed as he waited for the procession line to begin walking down the aisle. He knew that he shouldn’t be seeking Ginny out, but did it anyway. When he first entered the room, his instinct was to find her. It took only a few looks around the room before he remembered that Fleur had made Ginny a bridesmaid. Now, as the line began to move, he scanned the faces with some difficulty, owing to the fact that he was in the far back of the wedding hall. He had picked this location to ensure that the curious onlookers would leave him alone, though now he regretted his rash decision. Before he could see her, he sensed Ginny’s entrance into the hall. When the woman in front of him that was wearing an oversized hat bent to quiet her child, he had a momentary, unobstructed view of his prey.
Ginny Weasley walked down the aisle accompanied by her brother, his best friend, Ron Weasley. A fierce desire to switch places with Ron surged through him as he studied Ginny’s silhouette She looked incredible in an emerald bridesmaid gown that made her hair seem fierier than he had ever seen. Her skin was a flawless, glowing, ivory white that made his blood pulse faster, though it was her manner that did him in. Any royal would have been jealous of the regal way she floated down the aisle, head held high and shoulders back. His love for her crippled him and it was for that reason that he could not be with her. He was about to embark on a crusade against Voldemort and he could have no Achilles' heel that could be exploited by the enemy. Ginny could never be with him.
No, he thought as he sat back down into his seat, Ginny is always with me… in my dreams.
Hear me
I'm cryin' out
I'm ready now
Tattered remains were scattered about the room that lay forgotten like ancient ruins hidden for centuries without disruption. The fire that burned dully in the hearth cast eerie shadows along the oak-paneled walls in the room Harry occupied. He rustled through the papers determined to find a clue that could help him decipher his perplexing past. Finding his way to Godric’s Hollow had taken more time than he anticipated. It was a journey he’d just as soon forget, for it was rife with danger. A skirmish had ensued with a strange wizard that occupied the home when he would not let them in. In the end, Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to triple team him, though he Apparated away before they could catch and question him. No matter, it was clear that someone had not wanted him to go to his parents’ old home in search of answers. That person had torn what was left of the dwelling apart, in search of the thing that he, Harry, now sought. Perhaps the unknown culprit had the upper hand though, Harry considered, for it appeared that he knew what he was searching for. Harry still did not know what exactly it was that he was hoping to find in the rubble and ashes, but he searched on in crazed determination.
Hermione and Ron had long since fallen asleep in the adjacent room, although, Harry knew he could not rest until the task was complete. He pushed the useless papers away while rubbing his weary eyes, and pulled the box of remnants that Hermione and Ron had gathered towards him. Odd things, such as an old iron-wrought cauldron, thread, and pixie dust were strewn within the box. An old mirror at the bottom of the box caught his attention and he pulled it out to inspect it further. It looked oddly familiar to Harry as he turned it over in his hands. It greatly resembled the one that he received from Sirius two years prior, though this one was more ornate. As he recalled that the mirror Sirius had given him was a two-way mirror, he turned the mirror to the side with the looking glass. He had a split second to register the pair of bloodshot eyes staring back at him before throwing the mirror away in alarm.
He willed his heartbeat back to normal as he listened carefully to see if the noise he made had awoken his comrades. When he was certain that it had not, he pursued the mirror once more. The glass, now shattered, held no eyes in its depth, but a strange message…check the grate. After searching the room several times for the meaning of the odd message, he realized that this newcomer had to be referring to the grate within the fireplace. As he extinguished the fire he placed a cooling charm on it so that he could immediately look into it. He lit his wand and lay on his back within the fireplace in search of the grate. Positioned just above the opening of the inglenook was a gridiron lattice. Harry’s spirits soared as he saw a small book cloistered within it.
He noisily worked on taking the grid down, his concern for Ron and Hermione forgotten. Once he had the book in his hands he got out of the hearth and relit the fire. Ron’s snore indicated that he and Hermione remained asleep as Harry checked the mirror to see if there were anymore messages. He felt slightly let down to see that it had returned into an ordinary looking mirror but refocused his attention on the new book he had found. It was a miniscule booklet bound together by a gummy material. Gently, he opened the booklet and found, in curvy letters: Lily Potter “ Department of Mysteries. His excitement reached paramount levels as he read through the tiny musings his mother had left behind. It did not take long to finish the book. The meaning behind his mother’s suspicions was clear and the charms she had written, beyond his capability…though he would learn them.
Harry took the ornate mirror in his hand; though this time he did not seek any signs from the stranger that helped him before. In the light of the dying embers, he looked to his own face…he was now ready to face Voldemort.
Turn my world upside down
Find me
“Harry, you have to concentrate if you want to work this charm,” Hermione chastised exasperatingly.
“Hermione, stop being critical,” Ron retorted, “can’t you see you’re making him nervous?”
Hermione folded her arms in annoyance. If Harry was going to learn the charms he had found in his mother’s book, and it was imperative that he did, than he was going to need a lot of coaching. His mind was clearly on other matters as he stood before her, unable to perform the simplest of the charms.
“I’ll just be in the other room if you need me,” she told them, somewhat waspishly.
As she exited the room, she distinctly heard Ron whisper, “Shesssh…I thought she’d never leave.”
It irked her that they found her help such a bother. When she had finally managed to work the charm they were practicing, she caught them rolling their eyes at one another. The two of them were just acting like jealous school boys. Soon they would be begging for her help…no doubt she would feel pity for them and give in, as usual. Hermione found herself in the high-ceilinged drawing room where a humongous tapestry hung alongside one of the walls. She walked, as though drawn by a powerful force, to the tapestry. Her finger touched upon a small burned hole where the name of Sirius Black had been blasted out by his horrible mother.
Hermione could not understand how a mother could favor one child over another as Sirius said his mother had done. Her gaze fell to the right of Sirius’ name, it read: Regulus Black. His date of death was seventeen years prior. Something bothered Hermione as she looked at the name of Sirius’ brother, but she could not put her finger on what it was. She looked up to Sirius’ parents and began to trace the lines connecting his relatives. A line that came down from Sirius’ maternal grandparents also had a blast where a name should have been. An unbidden memory streamed through her mind…my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold…Sirius had told them…he’s been wiped off here too, that’s probably why.
Hermione swallowed convulsively, Sirius’ Uncle Alphard…his brother, Regulus Black. She strained her mind in an attempt to remember what Sirius had told them that day…Stupid idiot…he joined the Death Eaters. Hermione gripped her throat to keep the bile down as the pieces began to fall into place. The bit of parchment Harry had found in the fake Horcrux came to mind…To the Dark Lord…only Death Eaters addressed Lord Voldemort as the Dark Lord…I know I will be dead long before you read this…Regulus Black had died seventeen years ago…but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret…Sirius’ voice telling Harry about his brother floated into her mind…From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out…Hermione was horrified, could Sirius have been wrong?
Her mind returned to the letter at once…I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can…Had Regulus stolen the locket that had once belonged to Merope Gaunt, Voldemort’s mother? The image of Ron struggling to open a heavyset locket on the same day that Sirius had revealed all this information about his brother flooded her mind. Harry had also been unable to open that same locket. Come to think of it, no one had been able to open that locket. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more…Could Sirius have been so wrong? Was it possible that Regulus had come to their side and stolen one of Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes? The initials…R.A.B. There was no way to verify Regulus’ middle name, but it all fit.
She looked around ubiquitously. Where could that locket be? She tore the room apart looking for it. A crashing sound issued from the kitchen and Hermione leapt from the floor, Kreacher! It had to be with Kreacher. She screamed for Harry and Ron, she had found the Horcrux.